


someone will remember us

by dragonsbydaylight, Faerieko



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Canon-Style AU, Contains Illustrations, Developing Relationship, F/F, Gift Fic, Hanahaki Disease, More tags to be added, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-03 22:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14578659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsbydaylight/pseuds/dragonsbydaylight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faerieko/pseuds/Faerieko
Summary: Pinching the orchid petal between two fingers, Magilou lifted it up to eye level and laughed so hard that she cried.(Or: After Calamity, and Suppression, and a story worth remembering, Magilou finds something to care about.)Contains art byFaerieko.





	1. oh, it were far better to die

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KasumiKamigawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasumiKamigawa/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bloodstained Bouquet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13831296) by [KasumiKamigawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasumiKamigawa/pseuds/KasumiKamigawa). 



“And _there_ she is! The star of the village, the shining sun, the _guiding light_ of the people of the world! But! _Does_ she have a moment to spare for an old friend?!”

Magilou already had Eleanor’s attention halfway into her dramatic announcement, but Eleanor only folded her arms and smiled as she let Magilou play up her theatrics to her heart’s content. The smile that graced her face cleared some of the exhaustion straight off.

“Of course I do. It’s good to see you, Magilou! What’ve you been up to since I saw you at the capital?”

“Oh, a little of _this_ , a little of _that_ …” The witch tossed her hands from side to side as she spoke, giving Eleanor a sly sideways look. “A little birdie told me you’ve been granted _royal resources_ to fund your rebuilding efforts! It even comes with free food!”

“Yes, but it’s not for me. It’s for the people whose homes were ravaged during the…ordeal,” Eleanor replied with a wince. Magilou couldn’t help but giggle at the way Eleanor’s face twisted as her green eyes narrowed in suspicion. “ _That’s_ not what you’re here for, is it?”

It wasn’t, but Magilou’s grin was blithe and shameless—who would doubt it? “Perhaps! I’ve worn out the soles of my shoes a thousand times over as I traveled the world, keeping notes of our _true_ history…Would just a _bite_ to eat be too much to ask of the Shepherd? I’m homeless too, you know!”

“By choice. I’ve invited you to stay with me a thousand times, not that it matters much to you.” Still, Eleanor gestured for Magilou to follow her as they set off through the still-in-progress village.

It didn’t even have a proper name yet. When two of the local hamlets had been reduced to mush thanks to a monster attack that had occurred back when Artorias and his ilk were still active, the citizens had been reduced to huddling in shantytowns built along the river. Now that the malevolence had been cleared out and (relative) peace had been restored to the land, Eleanor had spearheaded the reconstruction efforts, electing to create one brand new town with inhabitants of both places, incorporating the cultures of all involved. It was coming along pretty well, Magilou supposed. Skeletons for houses were being pulled into place and a well had been dug out in roughly the middle of the town. The only two things actually finished were the inn and the tavern—because nothing motivated construction workers like booze and beds.

Magilou had seen her fair share of sleazy establishments, but this tavern—oh so creatively called “The Watered Flock”—was still brand spanking new and shiny. Had a bit of class. Magilou couldn’t wait to see how quickly it’d fall apart, like rust tarnishing steel.

“Take a seat. I’ll get you something to eat,” Eleanor offered.

“Oh? Are you a part-time bartender now?”

Eleanor chuckled as she stepped into a backroom. “No,” she called from around the corner, “but Gerald is on watch duty until sunset. And everyone’s already had their lunch break, so we’ll have some time to catch up.”

“How convenient! The stars are really working in my favor today.”

She could almost see Eleanor roll her eyes. “Is Bienfu not with you?”

“Oh, he’s here. Just dozing on a rooftop. He fell asleep ‘watching over’ all the girls down by the river doing laundry.”

“I can’t say that I’m surprised. In a way, it’s kind of reassuring to know he’s the same as ever.” Eleanor stepped up to the counter with a bottle of nonalcoholic cider, an apple, and a sandwich containing some kind of dark meat that had probably been harvested from a monster. “Here. This is what everyone had for lunch today, myself included. If you want something more filling—”

“You’re going to make me _work_ for it, aren’t you? Oh, the betrayal!”

“…And yet you’re eating it anyway.” Eleanor shook her head, but there was nothing harsh about the gesture. She pulled up a stool and sat beside her, hands primly on her lap.

…It was kind of weird how much of her behavior had boiled down to being predictable. Magilou felt as if she could read Eleanor’s entire history based on her face alone. But then again, Eleanor had always been an easy read. The girl was more emotional than a housewife who caught her husband in bed with another woman. More teary-eyed than a granny remembering the bygone era of her youth. More beautiful than—

Stopping _that_ train of thought right there, Magilou kept eating her apple, popping the cork out of the cider with one hand. “Hey, a meal’s a meal! And one shared with the _Shepherd_ on top of that. I’ll have to add it to my memoir.”

“How is that coming along, anyway?”

“I’ll tell you If you can remember what I called it.”

Eleanor _sighed_ , and Magilou’s eyes gleamed wickedly.

“ _Really_? Would you be willing to accept another apple instead?”

“The audience reels in shock! Gasp! Don’t tell me you’re re trying to _bribe_ your way to victory. Did the Lord of Calamity corrupt you more than I thought?”

Eleanor’s nose wrinkled in that adorably offended way of hers. She _hated_ it when anyone called Velvet the “Lord of Calamity”. (Magilou did too, but _because_ she hated it, she just _had_ to make fun of it.)

“Absolutely not. It’s just your names are a little too—”

“Creative? Awe-inspiring? Life changing?”

“— _strange_ for me to easily remember. But, fine. Let’s see.” Eleanor stroked her chin, dropping her gaze. Magilou pointedly (and loudly) sipped straight from the bottle of cider just to annoy her. Because she really was so cute when she was annoyed.

“Was it… _Magilou’s Magnificent Memoirs of Momentous Moments?_ ”

“Bzzt! Ohhh. _So_ close. You’re missing just an itsy bitsy bit.”

“Really?” Eleanor blinked. “What is it?”

“Buy a vowel for one apple!”

“Magilou! Really?!”

“Buy a consonant for another sandwich!”

“Knowing you, you’ll _say_ I’m missing some long and complex word just so you can get more food out of me.” Eleanor’s twitching lips betrayed the fact she was trying not to smile, which Magilou took as a good sign. Poor Eleanor was always working so hard.

“I’m a witch, not a crook, you know!” she replied with mock offense.

“I’m beginning to wonder if there’s much of a difference between the two.” Eleanor finally grinned in spite of herself. “Would the…wonderfully whimsical witch be willing to whisper a word of wisdom to me? A hint?”

Magilou’s jaw dropped, and she nearly spilled the cider on herself. “Well, what do you know? Eleanor! There might be hope for you yet! To think that you _actually_ have a bit of creativity in that too-serious head of yours!”

“A _bit_ of—?! I’m plenty creative! I mean, not like you, but I—Well—”

Just look at her! She was so flustered! Magilou felt her shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter and she decided to place the bottle down before she ruined her freshly cleaned clothes. (Though it wasn’t as if she tidied herself up when she went to visit Eleanor or anything. Of course not.)

The witch lifted a single finger, taking pity on the poor Shepherd. “It’s _Munificent Magilou’s Memoirs of Momentous Moments_.”

“’Munificent’. I knew it’d be an odd word like that. I must admit, your vocabulary is rather impressive.”

“Well, when you’re as well-traveled and educated as _I_ am…”

“The Abbey _was_ big on education.”

“And look where _‘education’_ got it! There’s nothing a book can teach you that personal experience won’t ram into your head a thousand times better!”

Eleanor’s tone was deadpan. “And yet you parade around with books for a skirt.”

“’You are what you wear’, as the saying goes.”

“Don’t you mean ‘the uniform makes the man’?”

Magilou winked. “But we’re not men.”

Sighing, Eleanor took Magilou’s cider and sipped it herself. Magilou arched an eyebrow, debating making a thousand comments and instead settling on just this _very_ suggestive look.

“…What? I forgot how tiring talking to you can be.”

“Alas, I’ve driven the young Shepherd to the bottle already!”

“You don’t have to keep calling me that. I’m just Eleanor. The same Eleanor as always.”

“Uh _huh_. With your freakishly high resonance and world-famous combat prowess, but, you know. _Just_ Eleanor. I guess that _just_ means you’ve always been amazing.”

…She blushed.

Eleanor blushed, red from ear to ear, the hue spreading across the bridge of her nose, and for some reason, for some _really weird_ reason, Magilou found herself staring at it. Her. _It_.

“Magilou?”

Her.

“Yeeees?” She snapped back to herself with a smirk.

Eleanor gave her a bit of a curious look, but shook her head, probably writing it off as Magilou just being Magilou. “I’m happy to see you, but I have to get back to work helping the others. I’d love to talk some more after the day’s over, though. I’m sure you’ve had to make a long journey just to get here, so why don’t you rest at my room in the inn? I’ll give you my key.”

Unfailingly compassionate as always. In truth, Magilou had only been on the road for a few days since her last stop, but she wasn’t going to mention _that_.

“Yes! I’ve braved blizzards, beasts, and the banalities of Bienfu on the long, winding road here—”

“And it means you’re too tired to help.”

“Just for today, maybe.” Magilou winked, folding her arms behind her head, her meal all finished in the blink of an eye. As far as simple meals went, it was satisfying enough. Had that home-cooked feel.

Eleanor rolled her eyes again, reaching into her pocket and placing a simple brass key into her palm. It was the kind of thing that would lock a door that Magilou could probably pick faster than she could get the blasted thing in. “It’s the last door at the end of second floor hallway.”

“Thanks!” Eagerly snapping up the promise of a nice bed to rest on—and the ability to duck out of work, on top of that—Magilou leaped to her feet with far too much energy for an exhausted person to have. “I’ll let you know about the status of my memoirs once you’ve finished playing Good Samaritan for the day.”

“You’re not such a bad person yourself, Magilou.” Eleanor put a hand on her hip. “Keeping records on the truth of what happened…That’s a noble, selfless thing to do. I can’t help but think you’d write it the best out of any of us. Like I said, you do have a certain way with words…”

“What way _did_ you think I meant? I was just referring to your impeccable sewing ability!”

“I—! Ugh.” Pressing two fingers to her temple, Eleanor let out a deep sigh. “You should come around more often, Magilou. When you stay gone for so long, I start to get too used to normal conversation.”

“Hey, that one was _completely_ on you. Did you really miss me so much?”

Eleanor opened her mouth to reply, but just then, the door opened and in came a young man with hair like a stray cat and a mustache that resembled a sleeping rodent. Quite the combination, if Magilou did say so herself.

“Miss Eleanor! There you are!”

“Yes. Forgive me for disappearing so suddenly. A friend stopped by.” Eleanor inclined her head toward Magilou, suddenly all business. “Is everything all right?”

“The boys and I were just lookin’ for your input on the new sign we’re paintin’.”

“Of course. I’ll be right over.”

The man left with a nod, and Eleanor made to follow. Sunlight streamed in through the door and bathed her in gold. “As I was saying, get some rest, Magilou, I’ll be up shortly after sundown once I’ve got everything settled.”

“Sure, sure! Toodles! Send Bienfu up to the room too if you see him!”

With one final nod, Eleanor was gone.

Magilou exhaled loudly, reclining back against the tavern counter and grabbing the cider again. Shame it was non-alcoholic, but it was sweet and filling nonetheless.

…And Eleanor had just so casually touched her lips to it. She really should’ve said something. Maybe she would’ve gotten her to blush again.

Magilou gave a light chuckle, bringing the bottle to her mouth—

—and promptly dropping it back on the counter again as something tickled her throat the wrong way. A few seconds of undignified coughing later, and Magilou brought her hand away from her lips to find something stuck to her palm.

It was a pink orchid petal. Absolutely harmless looking, save for the faintest tinge of red. When she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, a tiny droplet of red also stained her skin.

Magilou’s expression went still.

She washed the taste out with another gulp of cider. Everything was clean. No red, no flower petals.

Pinching the orchid petal between two fingers, Magilou lifted it up to eye level and laughed so hard that she cried.

All she could think was: _Of course._

_Of course_ this would happen again.

 


	2. the night is now half gone

Hanahaki Disease was a curious thing, though if she was being perfectly honest, it was no stranger than the Twelve Years Disease, or the Corsair’s Scourge. Hanahaki Disease only targeted those with what they believed was an unrequited love, soon prompting a coughing up of petals, flowerheads, and eventually, _whole flowers_ , dooming them to die shortly after the latter stage unless one of two things happened.

1) The victim’s romantic feelings were returned by the object of their affections.

2) The victim obtained a surgery to remove the disease, but in doing so, lost their feelings and memories of the person they loved.

In short, it was a pretty nasty piece of work. Magilou had her doubts that such a disease was even a _disease_ , because it sounded an awful lot like a curse to her, and she was pretty sure the surgery itself was magical in nature.

“Are you all right, Miss Magilou?”

Probably the work of a particularly annoying romantic Malak from centuries passed. Magilou kicked her feet up, sighing to herself. Hanahaki Disease was a popular subject for theater and books…but sheesh, she sure hadn’t wanted to find herself on the end of this sort of thing _yet again_.

“Hellooo? Miss Magilouuu?”

Placing a single finger on Bienfu’s head, she pushed the hovering Normin down onto the ground, causing an exclamation of, “ _Bieeeen!_ ”

“ _What_ is it, Bienfu? Can’t you see that I’m thinking?”

“I can see that! It’s just, I’ve never seen you be so quiet for so long…” He struggled to adjust his hat back to its normal position, which was harder than it should’ve been since Magilou was hardly applying much pressure.

Magilou gasped loudly. “Are you suggesting that I talk more than I should?! I happen to be a _master_ of poignant silence and dramatic pauses!”

“That’s what I’m worrying about!” With a _pop!_ Bienfu finally got his hat back into place, his little wings fluttering as he lifted himself up again. “Whenever Miss Magilou goes quiet, all sorts of _baaad_ things tend to happen…”

“Why Bienfu! I’m _hurt_. But! It’s _so_ kind of you to volunteer to make me feel better by offering to be a test subject for my newest spells!”

“ _Nooo!_ Please, Miss Magilou, not _agaiiin!_ ” Bienfu zoomed toward the exit of the room, only to slam into the door as it opened, revealing Eleanor framed in the morning light streaming in from behind her.

“Good morning Magi—Bienfu! I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

“M-Madame Eleanor…” The little Normin muffled, plastered against the door like fuzzy poster.

Eleanor peeled him off, carrying him in his arms as he lolled there, dazed and limp as a doll.

“I’m so sorry, Bienfu! I should’ve opened the door a little slower. I just heard Magilou and charged right in without thinking…”

“ _Bien_ …”

“Wanton damage toward the innocent?! Has the Shepherd truly fallen so—well, this _is_ Bienfu we’re talking about. It’s probably justice. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Magilou winked at Eleanor, hands folded behind her head, as she balanced her chair on its back legs.

Eleanor closed her eyes, sighing. “Oh _hush_ , Magilou.”

“Suit yourself. I don’t care.”

Magilou had left the inn late that morning, coming to the tavern at _just_ the right time to avoid most of the breakfast crowd. A few people were milling about, but most tended to leave Magilou be, unless Eleanor was accompanying her—and that was only because _some_ people thought she’d be a danger to their precious Shepherd!

The irony.

Once Eleanor had finished fussing over Bienfu, she came to sit beside her, fingers knitted neatly on the counter. Bienfu looked just a _bit_ too happy as he made a point of hovering around Eleanor’s shoulders, out of Magilou’s reach.

“Something on your mind?” Magilou said after a moment.

Eleanor’s brows were furrowed, her gaze downcast.

“Yes? No? Maybe so?”

“Do you think,” Eleanor said suddenly, cutting into Magilou’s last word halfway through, “that I really deserve to be called the Shepherd?”

Magilou felt something inside of her tighten at the look on Eleanor’s face. Her chest hurt. She covered it up with a theatrical throat clear, dropping the chair back onto all four legs with a thump as she slapped her hands on the counter.

“You’re not going to make me repeat myself, are you? Freakishly high resonance? Combat prowess? Heart as pure as the driven snow? If you’re fishing for compliments, I think more than a few of the men outside would be _happy_ to give you an ego stroke.”

“But that’s not what I’m looking for. I just don’t think I’m really at the standard that everyone’s been setting for me lately…”

“You’ve been working day and night with Prince Percival to rebuild ruined homes and restore hope to the hopeless—you know, all that fancy heroic stuff that’ll go down in legend. It’s little wonder people are starting to call you the ‘Shepherd of a new age’…what with the Malaks all being invisible to normal people and what not. _Aaall_ the normal people…except for _you_.”

“…And you. But I suppose you’re the farthest thing from ‘normal’.” Eleanor’s lips twitched.

Magilou smirked. “Now you’re getting it! I’m _always_ the exception.”

“You should give yourself more credit, Madame Eleanor! You’ve been helping villages and towns for almost a year now!” Bienfu did a little flip through the air.

“But isn’t that what _everyone’s_ been doing?” Eleanor pressed, looking from Bienfu to Magilou and back again. “Protecting each other, starting over from scratch, rebuilding what was lost…Everyone’s been doing their parts. If I deserve to be called the Shepherd for helping people, then I feel like everyone has become a Shepherd, in their own ways.”

“Ughhh…How can you say something like that with a straight face?” Magilou cleared her throat again before laughing. Even Bienfu chuckled. “You’re just proving everyone’s point about you, you know.”

“Wh-What? I am?”

“Yep! So, accept it; let people praise you, and reap the rewards!” She waved a hand at Eleanor’s beginning objection. “No, no, no. If _you_ won’t take advantage of your new title, _I_ sure will! Look at all the free food I’ve gotten since I started hanging around you!”

“But you _have_ been helping…even if it’s in your own weird way. I meant to say thank you for volunteering to cover the night watch last night after Geraldson fell ill, by the way.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. That way I got to sleep in without you complaining that it’s almost noon and I haven’t pulled myself out of bed yet.”

Eleanor smiled, shifting to lean toward her a bit. “I can’t exactly say ‘Get out of bed, or I’ll eat you!’ but I’d like to think I’m doing Velvet proud.”

(Magilou entertained an inappropriate joke, but decided to file it away for later.)

Besides, the mood shifted again as Eleanor’s smile faded. She curled her fingers into fists. “…If anyone deserves to be called the Shepherd, it’s Velvet. She’s the one who made the sacrifice to stop Innominat. But the only people who will ever know the truth are you, me, and the rest of our friends.”

“And whoever reads Miss Magilou’s memoirs!” Bienfu chimed in.

“But that’s why I’ve been doing all of this. To protect the world Velvet and Laphicet are working so hard to save.”

Magilou looked at her. Eleanor was resplendent, from the inside out. A force of goodness that quite frankly, seemed out of place in such a grim and harsh world. Glenwood could stand to have more people like her.

God, she was so—

Sudden pain lanced through her chest, far stronger than the dull ache that had been settled there these last few weeks. Magilou failed to hide her reaction, doubling over with a hand pressed firmly to her chest, grimacing.

“M-Magilou?! Are you all right?”

Eleanor’s hands were warm on her shoulders, and her eyes were _so_ kind and _so_ concerned and she—

She was absolutely _not_ what she needed right now. Magilou made herself straighten up, putting on a smile wide enough to fill the room.

“It’s terrible! Absolutely _horrifying!_ ”

“Wh-What is? Should I get some medicine? If Bienfu helps, I should be able to do some healing artes—”

“The hunger! I’m _dying_ from it!”

The lie came out with all the aplomb of a professional actress. Eleanor wavered for a moment, uncertain, face settling into a deadpan glower a moment later.

“…You’re just _hungry_?”

Magilou let a single crocodile tear trail down her cheek, pressing both hands over her chest both to stop the ache, and to hide the pained trembling. “F-Food! I must have food! I’m wasting away here!”

Eleanor slapped her palm to her forehead. “You could always just _ask_ you know, or make it yourself? You really scared me for a moment there.”

Bienfu was oddly silent. As Eleanor turned away for a moment to fetch some food from the backroom, Magilou caught Bienfu’s eye and slowly shook her head.

“ _Bieeen_ …”

“What?” Magilou called after Eleanor. “All this philosophical talk makes a girl hungry!”

Magilou didn’t quite catch whatever Eleanor replied with, tasting flower petals in her mouth when she coughed despite herself.

It was all played off, of course, until Eleanor departed to make her rounds throughout the town again.

Only then did Magilou allow herself to cough and cough and cough, ignoring Bienfu’s worry as she fed the flower petals and flower buds one by one into the fireplace.

~***~

She didn’t much care to remember her time with Melchior.

Oh, sometimes the memories would rise unbidden to the surface; drifting up like bubbles, bobbing like apples, floating like leaves. A lesson here, a phrase there. She tried particularly hard not to remember that terrible Legate uniform that she used to wear. It wasn’t that she _hated_ the memories, that she tried to ignore them.

She didn’t want to forget. She just didn’t want to remember, either.

But her old life was punctured with holes. A glaring piece of the tapestry had simply been sliced away, and try as she might, Magilou couldn’t remember a single detail about one particular thing.

The first love of her life.

The only thing she was certain of was that it hadn’t been a boy. A girl then, sure, but there were _thousands_ of girls in the world, and Magilou could’ve had feelings for any of them. No amount of investigation would ever uncover the secret of her missing love. Besides, it’d not be worth it.

Once the Hanahaki Disease was exorcised (hah) from within the victim, all feelings and memories of their beloved would vanish.

So, she could be strolling along down memory lane, only to fall down into a featureless pitfall when it came to remembering a certain somebody. Magilou was used to this little oddity.

That didn’t mean she still wasn’t a bit curious.

She recalled Melchior’s final, disapproving glower down at her as he abandoned her in what felt like the middle of nowhere. Loneliness and emptiness made even a crowded room feel hollow.

A Shadow for the Abbey was never supposed to feel, after all. By contracting the disease, she’d failed her test rather miserably…especially since Melchior had made it clear he’d performed the procedure without her consent.

Magilou remembered kneeling there, disbelieving and horrified upon hearing what he’d done. Too soft a heart, he said. A weakness that would persist inside of her even with the flowers gone from around her lungs.

She remembered him leaving. Vaguely. That period of her life before Bienfu appeared was especially unpleasant to recall.

The irony of Melchior tearing flowers out of her body by the roots wasn’t lost on her, either.

Life really was a stage.

~***~

“It’s good to know Rokurou is doing well,” Eleanor concluded with a smile, rolling the scroll back up and placing it on the bedside table. “He’s been keeping the expedition caravans safe from danger as they travel south.”

“Ooh. Risky business. I’m sure our little samurai is just _bursting_ with excitement and bloodlust.”

“Judging from what he said…something like that.”

The inn room designated to Eleanor had two beds. Due to the sheer length of time Eleanor had spent hanging around town, the space had become less of a temporary lodging and more like a permanent one, with décor and books and various other items strewn about. Not exactly adorned enough to be a true bedroom, but far from a one-night-stay sleeping area. Magilou had even set up shop on her side, scattering knickknacks about just to have something interesting to look at.

Night had fallen several hours ago. The sylphjay Rokurou had sent the letter with soon departed into the evening sky with the girls’ reply. The only lights on in town at the moment came from the tavern across the way, not including the torches from the village watch. With the moonlight sparkling off of the river and the homey golden glow pouring from the window, even Magilou had to admit it was rather picturesque.

She chatted with Eleanor about various things as she pretended to write something in her memoir. In truth, she was paying far too much attention to Eleanor to really care much about the history tome. All the important things were already written down.

“I’m a little surprised,” Eleanor admitted after some time, closing the journal she kept on the town’s progress.

“Abouuut?” Magilou sang, not looking up.

Bienfu was snoozing on one of Eleanor’s pillows, mouth partially open.

“I don’t think you’ve ever stayed in town this long. Not that I’m complaining. It really _is_ good to see you, Magilou.”

The words were warm, only watering the flowers inside of her. Gold and comforting as the tavern lights. Magilou gripped her quill harder.

“You love me! You really love me! To think that my presence was so dearly missed!”

Eleanor rolled her eyes but came over to sit beside her. Magilou tensed for a split second. If Eleanor noticed, she didn’t react.

“With…With everyone having gone their separate ways, it’s nice seeing a friendly face around. It makes me a little nostalgic for the old days, even though our lives were far more dangerous then.”

“The ‘old days’. It wasn’t even a year ago. Aren’t you a little young to be reminiscing like some old geezer?” She shot her a snide smile.

“W-Well! It’s just that…” Fiddling with her fingers, Eleanor chuckled, glancing at Magilou. “Sometimes it feels like it was another lifetime. Being an Exorcist for the Abbey feels almost like it happened to someone else.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Oh…I suppose you _would_ understand.” Eleanor grimaced a bit.

Closing her memoir, Magilou tickled Eleanor’s nose with her quill, causing the other girl to gasp out a laugh in surprise. _Cute._ “Hey, the topic’s not exactly taboo or anything—I aired _that_ dirty laundry already.”

“I’m having a hard time imagining _you_ in Exorcist regalia.”

“New rule! That’s the only thing we _can’t_ talk about. Just remembering that terrible garment is giving me war flashbacks.”

“I always found the uniforms rather stylish…and are you really one to talk about fashion?”

“This is high performer fashion, I’ll have you know!”

The banter should’ve came easier than it did. She wanted to make more jokes, to fluster and annoy Eleanor more, to say _something_ that was very much Magilou. Unfortunately, seeing Eleanor’s laughing face like this…well, it wasn’t doing her any favors in the “crippling pain” department.

Magilou found it a bit hard to breathe, suddenly. She swallowed hard, trying to clear the bloody blockage she was sure was building up in her throat. Fortunately for her, Eleanor kept talking.

“But this is what I mean. Even though I’ve befriended so many wonderful people since I began this project, I’m glad I can also share some time with you.”

Magilou pulled an exaggerated face of disgust at that, because it was easier to wear a grimace than to smile at the moment.

“Oh, don’t look like that! I’m being serious!”

“Yeah. I know. So am I.”

Eleanor wasn’t put off by her. Instead, she hesitated a second, and then gently placed her hand on top of Magilou’s, there, on those pale blue bedsheets.

Magilou froze.

Red scattered across Eleanor’s cheeks and nose again. Those green eyes looked at her with that curious unyielding softness that was Eleanor Hume’s trademark.

“I’ve said this before, but…I just, _really_ want you to think about it. If you ever get tired of traveling, I want you to know that you always have someone to come back to. Only because our adventure is over…doesn’t mean you and Bienfu have to be on your own.”

She couldn’t breathe.

“Think about it. Okay? I don’t have a permanent residence myself right now, but I think we’ve learned by now that home is more about the people around you, than where you find yourself.”

She was just _so much_ , wasn’t she? Eleanor was ridiculous. Stupid. Sentimental. Good and kind and pure and the _exact opposite_ of someone like her.

She loved her for it.

The thought crossed her mind and it took _everything_ in her not to cough. Magilou gritted her teeth through the pain, looking away from Eleanor to hide her expression.

“I’m sorry.” Eleanor pulled back, giving her a bit of space, completely misunderstanding the situation.

“A-About what? You’re fine. I’m just a little emotional.” The words came out normal enough, perhaps a bit breathless, though.

Magilou looked back at her with a reassuring, teasing grin. Eleanor didn’t seem convinced.

“Still. If I crossed a line, it was never my intention.”

“Oh, you’re fine. It’s just not every day someone invites a witch into their home.”

She was swallowing blood and petals, feeling them roiling in her stomach, twining around her chest, clogging up her throat. Strangling her heart.

Eleanor gave a little, fond shake of her head. “All right, Magilou. I’m going to make my final rounds for the night, and then turn in.”

“Justice never sleeps, as they say, but why don’t we put another adage into effect instead?” Magilou knew she couldn’t exactly afford to sit here and get blood all over the inn room. Lifting a finger, she smirked. “No rest for the wicked! Stay here, I’ll take a look around for you.”

Eleanor gave her a long, level, stare. Mercifully, she took the cue that Magilou wanted to be alone for a while, because she relented.

“…All right. Thank you, Magilou.”

“No problem! That’s what I’m here for—observing the escapades of the Shepherd in all her glory.”

Magilou departed the inn with a flourish of her hand in farewell. Bienfu remained asleep, so Magilou truly was alone with her thoughts. That was all well and good, since she didn’t exactly want a repeat of the earlier conversation she had with the Normin.

_“Miss Magilou, you have to tell her!”_

_“I don’t_ have _to do anything.”_

_“B-But if you stay silent, the disease, it’ll—!”_

_“I know what it does, Bienfu, and I’m telling you—there’s no point!”_

She had all the important things in order anyway.

The town was silent. Peaceful. Magilou wished she could have properly enjoyed it, enjoyed _something_ , but the garden blooming in her chest would not be denied.

She tucked herself into a quiet alcove near the river, far enough away that someone would have to actually leave town to hear the round of coughs that erupted from her bruised lungs. Petals and buds sprayed her hands, scattered across the grass—red stained both her palms and the dirt beneath her. It was gross and warm and sticky and left her tasting copper and green, growing things.

A particularly bad cough caused an entire pink orchid head to fall into her palm. Magilou stared at it, struggling to catch her breath, pressing her free hand to her face.

A helpless giggle rose inside of her. Her chest heaved, shuddering as she laughed and laughed and laughed, the sound trailing off into a miserable sound of exhaustion.

Pinching one of the petals on the flower head between two fingers, Magilou couldn’t help but wear the most sardonic of smiles as she said:

The petals floated down the river.


	3. you could release me

Magilou realized very quickly that she had made a mistake. But like most things, the revelation only arrived when it was too late to do anything about it.

Late.

She was very late.

Caught up in her morbidly whimsical take on flower fortunes, she’d spent too much time by the river—far too much for someone just taking a quick jaunt around the town.

“Magilou?”

So it really wasn’t very surprising when Eleanor came looking, her concerned calling of her name turning into an outright shout of fear.

“ _Magilou!_ ”

_Shoot,_ Magilou thought, trying to straighten up, but her throat was thick with flowers and leaves and vines and she couldn’t even make herself smile right. The facsimile that resulted only made Eleanor’s eyes widen in dismay.

“Oh no…It’s just like Bienfu said…”

…That annoying little Malak. Magilou lifted her head but couldn’t see him anywhere. Probably hiding somewhere nearby, though. He knew exactly what had to be done to cure this disease.

Her thoughts skidded to a half once Eleanor began to cry. It was stupid and cliché and positively enchanting, the way the moonlight reflected off of her tears, brighter than even the surface of the river behind them.

“M-Magilou…”

“Th-The return of the Crybaby Exorcist!” Magilou said with a shaky laugh, bloody fingers pressed against her chest as though she could reach through her ribs and tear out the flowers riddling her body.

“Why did you hide this for so long? Y-You have to let me help you! There has to be a way to—”

“You might as well save the tears. Oh, and artes won’t work either, so don’t waste your br-breath.” She met Eleanor’s gaze as the other girl rushed to kneel before her, their eye-contact breaking momentarily so Eleanor could take in all the red-stained petals and flora scattered around—funeral flowers for a witch’s grave.

“How can you say something like that? Y-You’re…” Eleanor swallowed hard, scrubbing fiercely at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re dying, aren’t you?”

Her voice was so quiet and fragile. Hearing that distress, seeing her so close like this, it just cemented what Magilou had already decided.

She would rather die than let herself forget about Eleanor Hume.

All the vital details were in her memoirs by now. Anything else could be supplemented later, by Eizen, or Rokurou, or Eleanor herself. Bienfu could just follow the latter around instead. Yeah. It’d be just fine. She’d have control of her heart for once; Melchior wasn’t around to take the choice away from her. This was what she had decided.

Again, how ironic. Death by flowers. Maybe she and the old man weren’t so different.

“Yeah.” Magilou’s response was soft. Delayed. “B-But…” Her throat seized, and she had to force down several flower petals and clots of blood. “Come on. Don’t look like that. It’s not the _ideal_ way I w-wanted to go, but…I’m not exactly a stranger to heartbreak.”

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed as Magilou tilted her head back to look at the sky, laughing.

“So, I don’t ca—”

“ _Don’t you_ dare _say you don’t care!_ ”

Warm fingers closed around Magilou’s own, indifferent to the blood now staining them. Eleanor’s glare was ferocious enough to make a daemon turn tail, and Magilou suddenly couldn’t look away from how that green _burned_.

“You’ve been sitting here just…just _suffering_ all this time, and you truly believe you can just play it off as _nothing?_ You’re _worth_ caring about, Magilou!”

She was still crying. Even with that righteous fury in her eyes, she was still blubbering away. For some reason, that made Magilou snicker despite herself; Eleanor’s concern only made the vines close tighter and tighter, but she was so beautiful in that moment that Magilou thought it a worthy price to pay.

Eleanor clasped her hands between hers, steadying Magilou’s trembling. When had she begun to tremble? Somewhere between the pain and the exhaustion, she’d grown so weak…

“You’re…You’re kind, in your own way. You’ve fought alongside us. You protected us, helped to guide us—you’ve been a real and wonderful friend, Magilou. Y-You’re funny, and charming, and even when you’re being absolutely just, j-just, _infuriating_ , it’s always wonderful to have you around. I didn’t realize how much I missed you until we all went our separate ways. And being here with you, rebuilding the town…”

Eleanor finally broke her gaze away, smiling shyly, red scattering across her cheeks and over the bridge of her nose.

“It’s…been nice.”

Magilou couldn’t stop the coughing anymore. Eleanor clasped both of her hands over her mouth as what amounted to an entire bouquet practically emerged, causing even Magilou’s demeanor to finally break. She fell onto her hands as Eleanor steadied her.

“G-Glad to hear that you like having me around,” she rasped, the edges of her vision blurring from the pain. “You know, when you offered me a home…I kept refusing because I wouldn’t know what to do with it. Heh…even now, you’re…a real Shepherd, aren’t you?”

Magilou wheezed a sardonic laugh.  “I mean, that do-gooder heart of yours…it’s what…I love about you.”

Eleanor gave a soft little gasp. And then, before Magilou knew it, her hands were framing her face, gently bringing the witch’s eyes up to meet the former Exorcist’s once more. The tears were gathering anew in Eleanor’s eyes, and they were tender now. So very tender. It wasn’t a look Magilou was used to receiving, if she ever really had.

“Magilou…that’s the other cure, isn’t it? If…If I understand Hanahaki Disease correctly.”

She brought them closer. So close that their foreheads were touching, resting upon one another, though Eleanor was practically supporting all of Magilou’s exhausted weight.

“…I love you too.”

For a moment, Magilou could breathe, her reply filled with the most honest display of emotion she’d indicated in a long, long time. “…Eleanor—?”

“And if you don’t care…I’ll care enough for the both of us. I-I…I love you, Magilou, so please don’t die…!” She wrapped her arms around her and tightened her embrace to the point that Magilou couldn’t breathe for an entirely different reason. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you too!”

Velvet’s absence burned between them all, along with Laphicet’s pseudo-absence, Maotelus that he now was. Still, the words— _I care, I care_ —filled Magilou’s heart, made her exhale a little cleaner, a little clearer.

She pushed Eleanor off of her, but it was just so she could start clearing her lungs of all the flowers without getting blood and petals in her hair.

“S-So you love me, huh?” Magilou didn’t have to force a smile this time. In fact, she couldn’t _stop_ smiling, the elation causing her lips to twitch in a sincerely wide way. “That’s a _preeetty_ big mistake you’re making…”

“Don’t try to play this off! This is a serious—!” Eleanor blinked, chuckling a little as she pressed one hand over her heart. “…I take it you’re feeling better then. Are you going to be all right?”

Magilou nonchalantly picked a stem from between her teeth, pulling a face at the mess she’d made of her clothes. Ugh. Well, at least she knew a good method for cleaning blood out of fabric; a necessity for anyone that fought battles as much as they did. “Who, me? More or less. I mean, once I’ve coughed out the rest of the flowers, should be smooth sailing from here on out.” With the pain fading fast, she was able to slip back into her usual behavior without much trouble, though Eleanor seemed to be seeing her in a whole new way now.

“Thank goodness…” Eleanor closed her eyes, letting out one long sigh.

Once Magilou was certain that most of the foliage was gone from within her, she used the river to scrub her hands and mouth clean. Nothing to be done for her clothes at that very moment, but at least she didn’t look like she’d come out on the wrong end of a fight with a Therion. As she turned, though, she noticed Eleanor watching her.

“Something on my face?” Magilou inquired, arms folded behind her head, as casual as she could make it.

“…You should smile like that more often.” Eleanor brushed some hair behind her ears. “It’s nice to see you looking so carefree again. I’m sorry for not noticing what was troubling you before.”

Magilou meant to reply with a joke about how great her acting was, but Eleanor surprised her. She stepped closer, gloved fingers gently guiding Magilou’s chin toward her—

“I-If I may—”

Magilou might’ve blushed for the first time in her life. Briefly. But seeing Eleanor’s whole face catch fire, pausing _just_ before their lips touched because she’d lost her nerve, it quickly turned into the witch giving her most spectacular smirk yet.

She _could_ complete the kiss for her. But what would be the fun in that?

“Well, I don’t know! _May_ you?”

“Magilou—”

“Isn’t this pretty much like stopping _just_ before spearing a monster? It’s a little late to ask.”

“Y-Yes, but you’re not a monster!” Eleanor huffed.

~***~

“Miss Magilouuu! I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Later on, back in their inn room, Magilou grabbed the sobbing Malak by his hatted head, lifting him up to eye-level so she could fix him with a glare.

Eleanor was going to meet her back up here soon, having gone to retrieve food, insisting that Magilou eat something and then rest after her ordeal.

So it was just her and Bienfu, as per usual.

“Now, maybe I’m just _forgetting_ , but I’m pretty sure I told you to keep _quiet_.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Magilou! I was just really, _really_ worried! Your condition was getting so _bad_ , and I—”

Magilou placed him down safely upon her bed, causing him to look up at her in surprise.

“…Thank you, Bienfu.”

(Of course, once Eleanor returned, Magilou pushed him right off the side.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the artist and I, thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> A very happy birthday to our friend KasumiKamigawa! This is a joint effort from myself and the artist, and this will be a multichaptered affair. We were presented with the challenge of doing a Hanahaki Disease fic similar to the one Kasumi already wrote--we encourage you to check that one out too!  
> Stay tuned, and if you enjoyed it or not, we'd love to hear your feedback!


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